


before you came i lost my head

by superultra



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, did not work out, im really sorry, this is honestly the dumbest thing ive ever written, tried to be poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superultra/pseuds/superultra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you make my thighs tremble and my brain cloud up and i know the sun is ninety-two million nine-hundred-sixty thousand miles away but it feels closer when you look at me like that</p>
            </blockquote>





	before you came i lost my head

**Author's Note:**

> warning: this is trash  
> tbh none of this makes sense and it's just a stream of insignificant times luke has talked to/thought about ashton so yeah i don't know how to write  
> also title is from the mowgli's "we are free" so go give that a listen!!

_there's a boy and he washes his hands with blood and sings songs about freedom and you think he'd be scary, this boy, but he's not. his fingers are soft and his eyes are softer and he lights you up from the inside out, sets your organs aflame with the hitch of his voice. i've been wondering lately what his lyrics would taste like on the pad of my tongue, what kind of imprint those hands could leave between my thighs, and i know this isn't love but i still want to wake up with his head curled in the crook of my neck._

luke is fourteen years old when he meets ashton. his skin is in craters and his limbs feel too heavy and his voice cracks in the middle of his sentences; he's beginning to learn what it's like to hate himself, beginning to swelter under the pressure of being a teenager. the sky is black and he's moving quickly, scraping his skateboard on the sidewalk behind him as he tries to make it home before his curfew. there's a collective peel of laughter from somewhere on his left side and it startles him so much that he trips over his feet. he hears his skateboard rolling away and swears under his breath, brushing gravel off of his knees and wincing when he feels the sour etching of an incoming bruise.

someone's shouting "hey, kid! come here!" and luke knows where this is heading, knows not to trust voices in the dark, so he's standing up and feeling a bit desperately around for his skateboard. his heart is thrumming erratically and there's blood rushing to his ears and he's _scared,_ alright, because sometimes he says he wants to die but he sure as hell doesn't want it to be at the hands of a stranger.

suddenly, there's a boy standing in front of him, holding out his skateboard. he's got his phone screen lit up to provide illumination and luke still can't see much but he can tell that this boy is _pretty_. he's tan and older and has this straightened fringe that most of the girls in luke's grade have been showing up to school with. there are dimples peeking out of his cheeks and his eyes look a bit pink and he's kind of just standing there, smile soft and expression friendly.

"hey, this yours?" he asks, voice giggly. luke nods twice, not trusting himself to conjure up a witty response. the boy takes a few steps forward and hands him the skateboard, long fingers brushing across the tips of luke's own. he smells smoky, like wood or fire or a combination of the two, and it's not unpleasant but it's making luke a bit lightheaded.

"i'm ashton," he greets, smile still at full-force and tone still bubbly, "d'ya wanna come smoke with us?"

luke's eyes are widening and he sweeps his gaze to the small group of people that ashton's gesturing toward, all barely visible under the midnight sky. there's a small stream of smoke blowing out of one of their mouths and luke realizes they're high, realizes ashton probably is, too. he turns back around and shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck, "uh, no, no thanks."

ashton just shrugs, seemingly unaffected, "hey, no problem. free weed, though, bud - this is a once in a life time opportunity." he tacks a wink on at the end of his sentence and luke feels his whole body flush pink. he chances another look at the calm group of people and shakes his head slowly. he doesn't know anything about weed - or this boy, for that matter - so he's making the right decision. ashton just shrugs again and smiles at him once more before patting his shoulder and dropping himself comfortably back into his circle of friends.

luke drags his feet away, clutching the skateboard under his armpit and blinking to himself. ashton's giggly voice is belting out the lyrics to a song luke doesn't recognize, something like "we are free if we want," and his friends are all laughing with him, drumming on their stomachs and screeching along. he looks back every few minutes, expression hazy with longing, and soon their quiet laughter fades to nothing.

his shoulder tingles the rest of the way home.

\---

_sometimes i feel like i'm just as hollow as one of those jack-o-lanterns people stick on their front porch in the fall. except i don't shine through, i don't have a candle in my ribcage to spread light from the inside out. i'm pitch black. it's dark and freezing in this cave i call my body and i can't stand being alone with my own thoughts, can't stand knowing you're right there but you won't lay a finger on me. i want someone to slice me open because there's no point in being a shell of something else and maybe it's dumb that i can't remember the address to my own house but i can repeat what you've said to me word for word._

luke is almost fifteen when he sees him again. the sun is sticky-hot and he's got a loose grip on the sandwich in his left hand, the other scrawling hasty lyrics in a notebook. most of the pages are torn from being folded and crinkled and thrown across the room, but he's intent on using them all up anyway. it's fifth period lunch and there's three other kids sat at his table and they don't talk much, the four of them, because luke is busy turning himself into an introvert and they're busy thinking about the female anatomy.

there's a giggle from a few tables away and luke's head is peeking up in interest at the familiarity of it. he swivels a bit in his seat, neck turning at awkward angles before he finally spots a boy -  _the_ boy, _ashton,_  happiness dripping off of him like some kind of human ice cream cone. he's still giggling, presumably at something his friend said, and he looks so much better in broad daylight that it's almost unbelievable. luke has the sudden urge to, like, open up a mason jar and bottle up his laugh for later, for when he's staring at his ceiling and waiting to feel less sad.

he shakes his head and returns to his notebook, the back of his neck burning with something akin to embarrassment. he feels hot all over and he doesn't know _why,_ doesn't understand how this irrelevant teenager a few grades above him can make him so sweaty. he probably doesn't even _remember_ luke, probably doesn't know luke is some geeky freshman with bad hair and even worse socializing skills, and maybe that's for the best. luke scribbles down a few words in his notebook, things like _curly_ and _bright,_ and wonders how weird it would be to write a song about a stranger.

he sneaks another glance behind his shoulder blade and finds that ashton's looking back. he's startled for a moment, but ashton just smiles at him and lets his gaze drift to his friends again. his collarbones look velvety and his hair is this dumb shade of honey-suckle and his teeth are whiter than the pathetic school-bought milk cartons. luke decides it'd be very weird.

he writes two songs by the time the final bell rings.

\---

_i become obsessed with things so easily and i don't want you to be just another lost interest because you're more than that, i'm sure of it, you've got bones and flesh and veins but i can't prevent the downfall. sometimes my hands are so icy i think they might be trying to compete with my heart and i know there's a professional term for people like me but the only word i can come up with is 'hopeless'._

luke is sixteen when he talks to ashton again. he's spread face-down across michael's bed, humming along to the all time low song that's blaring out of someone's shitty phone speaker as calum threads a few lazy fingers through his hair. luke slipped into a friendship with michael and calum at the beginning of tenth grade and he loves them harder than he hates himself, loves how stupidly lucky he got to have them in his achingly mundane teenage experience. there's a few guitars leaning against the door and michael's snoring into the back of luke's kneecap and they're all in this hazy, tired state of post-band-practice. luke's about to shut his eyes when there's an intense shrieking noise coming from michael's phone.

calum groans and michael wakes up groggily. a grumpy look crosses his face as he digs around the sheets for a few moments before raising a hand, clutching the offending object. luke can tell he's about to turn it off and throw it, but then his eyes scan the screen and he's immediately yelping, flopping out of bed and crashing against the floor. calum and luke both peer over the edge to make sure his bones are all in tact, but he just jumps up and shoves the phone in their faces, honest-to-god _squealing_.

"someone responded to my drummer ad! we're gonna have a drummer for the gig!" michael's shouting and running around the room and luke smiles to himself for a moment before letting the words digest. they have a drummer for the gig. they have a _drummer_ for the _gig._ soon, both him and calum are hopping off of the bed, too, joining michael and dancing and smiling wide enough for their cheeks to peel off.

calum's the first one to stop dancing, inquiring with a happy, "what's their name?" and luke stops too, nodding along curiously. he wonders if this person will join the band, wonders if they'll fit right into their tight-knit group.

michael reads his phone screen for a few seconds before chirping out a response, "ashton irwin. says he's eighteen, been playing for a few years, and that we can call or videochat with him if we need to to work out the details." his eyes are bright and luke feels his pupils dilate, feels himself unable to fight a blush, because what if this is the same ashton who offered him weed two years ago? what if this is the same ashton who used to pass him in the hallway and make his heart shake in his chest?

"well," calum starts, still grinning, "let's videochat him, yeah? i'll open up skype on the laptop, you ask for his username."

michael nods and luke feels breathless and dumb and hopeful all at once and he knows he's being stupid, he knows that he's only talked to ashton, well, once. but this feels like a big moment and he's hoping ashton recognizes him despite what logic is saying. michael pats the spot next to him and luke sits down obediently, trying to control his nerves and his vibrating hands. he guesses he looks like he's about to have a panic attack because michael is intertwining his fingers with his and calum is flashing him a concerned frown.

"you okay, lukey?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed, reaching out to touch his cheek. luke nods. he _is_ okay, he's not nervous, he just needs to get a fucking grip. calum continues, "don't worry, alright? i'm sure this ashton fella's a nice bloke. you don't have to stress about him not liking you. everybody likes you!"

"and if he doesn't, i'll knee him in the scrotum," michael chimes in helpfully. calum laughs, nodding.

luke smiles gently at the misguided support, breathing in deeply, "i'm fine. you can call him now, if you want."

someone clicks a button and luke's palms feel like they're burning but michael squeezes tight. in a few seconds, a dimpled smile appears on the screen and luke's breath is hitching and he can hear everyone exchanging hello's except him because his throat has turned to sandpaper. ashton stares intently at him for a few seconds before shaking his head to himself and pretty soon there's a conversation flowing. michael's still grasping luke's hand and calum's high-pitched laugh is reverberating around the room and by the end of the chat, luke feels sick. because ashton is funny and loud and kind and luke has a big fat crush on him and he might possibly join their fucking band and this is real now and _no_.

they all say their goodbyes and then they're logging off the computer and cheering, happy that they've found someone as awesome as ashton to drum for them next saturday. luke feels hope blossoming in his chest at the prospect of actually meeting ashton, of actually holding a conversation with him that doesn't involve free drugs. he's itching for the opportunity and michael's _still_ holding his hand and this almost seems surreal, almost seems like it doesn't fit into luke's dull little life.

\---

_tsunamis and tornadoes are very powerful forces of nature but i think you are too, because you make me feel like there's four different seasons going on inside of me at once. i used to believe in fairy tales and myths but now i believe in the taste of your mouth and i hope you want me as much as i want you because this hurts, this feels like falling and crashing and burning. all i know is that pieces of my brain splinter off whenever you sit next to me and maybe that's why i've been thinking with my heart lately._

luke is still sixteen when he thinks he might have a shot with ashton. they're at his house and they've been friends for months and now they're sat in front of a video camera, trying to film a cover to post. calum is sat between them wearing a dorky tie and michael is out of town and the two of them have been skirting around each other for a few days and luke doesn't even know _why,_ he just knows that ashton's cheeks are always coated with stardust.

luke's got his sweatshirt hood pulled over his head and a guitar in his grip, calloused fingertips strumming absentmindedly at strings. his hands are rubbed raw from playing for hours and he kind of feels weird, because ashton has been staring at him a lot and it's making him flustered. he's positioned slightly away from the two boys when calum starts the recording. they introduce themselves, all shy and giggling messes, and then luke starts strumming again and calum sings and ashton harmonizes.

they don't sound bad, really, but luke and ashton keep stealing glances at each other throughout the entire performance. luke watches ashton as he sings self-consciously and ashton does the same and they're both dumb, basically. it's nearing the end of the song and they've messed up a few times, singing in the wrong key and skipping over lyrics. luke attempts one more high note as a joke and surprises himself when it doesn't sound awful, when it doesn't suck as much as he had expected. he can feel both calum and ashton burning holes in the side of his face and he's wondering why, so he turns to his left, just in time to catch ashton's awestruck expression. luke raises an eyebrow and ashton's entire face goes rosy and it kind of makes luke want to set himself on fire.

"that was, um," ashton starts, clearing his scratchy throat and breaking his voice, "do you guys wanna restart?"

calum nods, but ashton's not looking at him. he's looking at luke, directly at luke, _always_ at luke, and luke just nods as well. his skin feels tight and his mind's reeling with its usual thoughts, fleeting comments like _when did ashton get so shy_ and _oh jesus why is he looking at me_ and _how far does that blush spread._

they turn the camera off and reposition themselves, taking sips of water and pasting on nervous smiles as they warm up their voices. someone presses play and they're suddenly thrown back into filming, suddenly thrown back into the stumbling introductions and too-long glances. luke hears a car honk outside the window, hears his whole body shake with relief, and he's standing up out of his seat exclaiming "daddy!" before he can help himself. his father is waiting impatiently out front, car running as he gives luke a minute to get in, and luke turns to smile goodbye to his friends when he notices ashton's face. his features look tense and his eyes have just stopped widening in shock and he's sitting uncomfortably, hands folded over his thighs, biting his lip and staring up at him. luke kind of wants to touch him and kind of wants to know what's wrong but he doesn't really have time for either so he just waves. calum's the only one who waves back while ashton barely lifts his mouth up into a small smile.

when he thinks over the scene later, curled up on his side in bed, he realizes ashton had gotten hard.

\---

_something inside of me twists when you're pressing your hands to my hips and i hope you never stop sucking smears of violet on my shoulders because they give me something to breathe for. i want to kiss every thought that crosses your mind even if it isn't pretty. i've always been afraid of taking risks and breaking rules and running down the streets at three in the morning, but you make everything warm and easy and i don't think i'm scared of living anymore._

luke is seventeen when ashton kisses him. all four of them are panting heavily and beaming proudly and fucking feeding off of the adrenaline from the show. they've just opened up for one direction, and it's still absolutely insane to think about, but they're too happy to do anything but rush around and hold each other and annoy everyone within a ten meter radius. their set was meritorious and the crowd had roared in approval and they were on top of the world right now, really, all ready to burst from excitement.

after a few hours calum and michael have calmed down, have stuck to playing fifa and sporting large, lazy smiles. luke still feels antsy, though, still feels like he's buzzing with the rush of the applause and he's so energetic it almost makes him dizzy. he has to do something; has to get out and run around until he crashes, until his heart doesn't feel like it's going to pump right out of his skin. ashton comes up from behind him, eyes just as wide and grin just as genuine.

"wanna get out of here? i feel like i need to, like...jump around, or something," and luke nods because yes, he gets that, he needs that too or else he'll detonate and turn everything in his path to ashes. the two of them sneak out of the hotel room, giggling for no reason and every reason, and luke feels good. he hasn't felt this good in a long time, hasn't been able to get ashton alone for longer.

they end up in a park and it's not as dark as the first time they met but luke likes it, likes that the stars are showing up to watch as they lose themselves. they're chasing each other around, black shoes crunching over twigs and grass and laughs almost as loud as heartbeats, and then he's knocking into ashton, limbs too long to control. ashton's breath is hot and they're inches away from each other and luke can't make out the color of his eyes but they're still the prettiest things he's ever seen. it's every bad rom-com rolled into one and that thought makes him want to laugh but he can't right now; can't because ashton's leaning in and his eyelashes drape over his cheekbones long enough to cast shadows.

they kiss slowly, languidly; unhurried enough that luke can confirm ashton tastes like chocolate and the solar system and some perfect form of desperation. he's been waiting for this moment since the second he's laid eyes on him and it feels like everything's slotting into place, like everything's shifting in and out of perspective. luke doesn't know why they haven't done this sooner, but he also knows he wouldn't trade this first kiss for anything.

\---

_i feel like i need to announce it everywhere, need to tattoo your name on my forehead so that the first thing people notice about me is a part of you. you make my thighs tremble and my brain cloud up and i know the sun is ninety-two million nine-hundred-sixty thousand miles away but it feels closer when you look at me like that._

luke is eighteen when he loves ashton. that's a lie, actually, because the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he's been gone for ashton since day one. he's eighteen when he knows it, though, and it catches him by surprise.

it's not some big revelation, not some spectacular motion-picture moment where one of them's dying and the other is slapped with a double-barreled shotgun of emotion. luke is rubbing his eyes and entering the kitchen at fuck-knows o'clock in the morning and ashton's just sitting there at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone and spooning cereal into his mouth. and luke just, he knows. they've been together for a few months now, been this cute little couple that exchanges sweet pet names and dumb compliments. they've had sex, too, of course, have both writhed around in sweat-soaked sheets as they explored each others' bodies and licked bruises on their hipbones.

but now they'd be making love, and that should be scary, right? that should be terrifying and luke should be pale and nervous and freaking out, but he doesn't even feel worried. because he knows ashton now, knows what kinds of cartoons he watches when he's sick and what smile is his most genuine and what he dislikes about himself. and he knows that ashton won't be uncomfortable with the admission, won't shy away or make him feel bad. he knows that when you're a teenager everything's the end of the world but this feels like the beginning of it, so he walks up behind him and wraps his arms around his neck and says it loud and clear, "i love you."

ashton's eyes are brighter than he's ever seen them when he repeats it back and it's beautiful, honestly. because luke is still eighteen but he knows that this boy will be on his mind for the rest of his years.

**Author's Note:**

> if u made it through all of that im probably in love with u


End file.
